Mistaken
by ArwenJaneLilyLyra
Summary: There are so many things to say, but now she hasn't the breath to speak. A chance for a goodbye? Or the snaking fingers of insanity taking control? Shannon knows what she believes, no matter what anyone else tells her, even Boone...


Mistaken

It had been a long time since Shannon Rutherford had awoken to see the grey light cast by pre-dawn skies, if she ever had. She opened her eyes and watched for a short while, as slowly the last of the glistening sparks of stars vanished in the glow of the sun's rays. Only vaguely aware of what she was doing, Shannon reached up to stretch her hand towards the sky, as if to rub away the wisps of clouds with her fingers. The silence of the beaches told her without even a glance that she was one of few people who were awake, if not the only one. She sighed and sat up, casting her gaze around the deserted beach.

Another day on Craphole Island. Hoping for rescue. Without Boone.

The blonde started at that thought. For the most part she had managed to live these past few days without being plagued by coherent thoughts of her damnable brother, who had had the cheek to leave her so cruelly here on this godforsaken island of hell; most of the time it was just a dull sense of being alone in the back of her head.

She found herself watching the waves for a while, and probably would have sat there until Sayid awoke and claimed her attention if she wasn't soon distracted. For now, however, she was alone to her thoughts.

She recalled with morbid clarity the way she had glared at poor Claire, who was not much older than herself at all. The woman hadn't deserved such anger. It just seemed so unfair; she had gained a life, whilst Shannon had lost one. Shannon knew this was unkind. Claire had even told her that she would never forget Boone, that once they were off this island, she'd remember him every time she celebrated her – as of yet unnamed – child's birthday. The child was beautiful, even Shannon hadn't the lack of heart to deny that. He was a beautiful baby, who deserved all the admiration and attention he was receiving.

She dismissed the guilty thoughts with a sigh and turned her mind to happier things, but was soon interrupted.

"Shannon!"

"Yeah?" she called back in answer to her name, earning a series of angry mutters from the sleeping bodies within the vicinity. She frowned at a particularly angry glare she received from a young man with curly blonde hair. Why was she getting blamed? It wasn't as if she was the first person to shout.

"Shannon!"

The blonde woman let a low growl escape her lips and she stood reluctantly, slipping into a dark navy sweater that she had used a pillow. Her brother's scent had long vanished, but it was a small comfort that she allowed herself, much easier to bear than a photo. Her breath rose visibly from her lips in billowing clouds and she rubbed her hands together to dispel the cold that was highly unnatural for the generally sweltering climate of the jungles.

"Hello?" she called out hoarsely, feeling evermore frustrated by the disappearing act of the mysterious voice.

"Shannon?"

The woman spun quickly around, catching her foot on the root of a tree and falling to the floor with a clatter, soaking herself in the dew covering the leaves upon which she fell. She stared down at her hand where droplets of blood started to ooze their way over her trembling fingers. As she cursed, she moved her attention to her knees, which were also scraped and bruised. However, she was distracted by a figure stood watching her, and looked up, opening her mouth to tell the fool stood idly to come and help her, but her breath caught in her throat, and in moments she had forgotten all about the pain and was stood with her arms wrapped around the relatively tall figure, who stood stoic, letting the blonde girl sob into his shoulder with surprisingly strong vigour.

"I thought you were dead," she cried into the ripped material of his shirt. He let out a low chuckle, husky, and flatter than his usual lilting tone. "Wait…" she stood back, eyes suddenly guarded and wary. "You are dead…I saw you. I-I watched them bury you. Why…how…what?"

"Still as clueless as ever, Shan?" Boone said, smiling a mockingly pleasant grin.

"Oh god Boone, you were gone. I hated that you were gone. There was so much I had to tell you!"

And despite the confusion that disallowed her to form truly coherent sentences or thoughts, her arms snaked around his waist once more and she pressed her lips against his in overwhelming passion. But Boone remained cold and unaffected, even as her tongue brushed against his lips, and she leaned back, staring into his sad blue eyes for answers to unspeakable questions.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything," she whispered, lips trembling.

"I know," was the young man's reply, his voice warm and full of reassuring understanding that filled Shannon with enough confidence to continue.

"I missed you so much, Boone. It's been hell without you."

His reply was no different, though his voice edged a little.

"And I-I…I love you, Boone. I love you so much."

She leaned in for a kiss, but when still he did not react she moved to press her forehead against his, content to have their bodies pressed tightly against one another in an embrace.

"No, you don't. You really don't, Shannon."

His tone was still caring and kindly, at great contrast to the words he spoke.

"What?" she asked. "Yes, yes I do, Boone. I only realised it once you were gone, but I do. I'm sorry I acted otherwise but I swear to you I love you!"

Boone smiled and reached up to place his hands on either side of Shannon's head, his fingers buried in her blonde hair and he leaned over to kiss her head lightly, before shaking his own. "No, you don't, Shannon."

"I know it took me a long time to realise but please Boone, I've changed. I do love you, only now you're gone have I realised it!"

"Exactly, Shan," he said gently, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her lower lip and wiping a tear away with the other. "You don't love me, this isn't love, Shannon. You feel bad for not being there when I died. You feel guilty for treating me like crap. You regret using me and toying with me. All admirable things for you to be feeling, Shannon, but you're mistaking them for love."

Shannon shook her head fervently, more tears leaking down her face and chasing towards her jaw. She pursed her lips at his accusations, but her throat was constricting and she choked on her breath, making speech impossible. She picked absently at the dark threads of his shirt, ripping one out and playing absently with it between numb fingers.

"I know you're sorry, Shannon, but stop with the drama queen act. I love you, Shannon, and I know you wish things had turned out differently, but don't torture yourself over a love you never felt." The warm voice was distant and lonely, and Shannon reached up to wipe away a tear that was clinging to her step-brother's eyelash. She pressed her lips together and reached up to kiss Boone again, to _prove_ to him just how wrong he was, but she stumbled and toppled to the ground.

"Shannon? What are you doing out here?" the blonde girl looked up to see Sayid staring down at her, his dark eyes full of concern as he reached and took her bleeding hand in both of his. She didn't answer, but instead stared around the patch of jungle, looking everywhere for the dark haired young man she had held in her arms not moments before.

"Boone?" she called out shakily, and the man's brows pressed downwards further.

"No, it's Sayid. Boone's dead, Shannon." He said the words as sensitively as he could, but how sensitive can one be when reminding their delirious girlfriend that her brother is dead? Eyes shining, Shannon shook her head and stared imploring at the man knelt beside her.

"He was here, he was!" she pleaded desperately. She reached up to trace her lips, which were still warm from the kiss. As she did so, she felt s strand of cloth rub against her skin, and found she was still holding the tress from his shirt.

_Proof!_ She thought to herself, a smile of relieved hysteria quivering on her lips.

"Here, see! It's from his shirt, I picked it from his-" her sentence tailed into nothing as Sayid placed a hand on her face, and she fought the urge to flinch from the touch, as his larger, warmer hands dispelled the remnants of warmth from her cheeks.

"Shannon," he said lightly, and pulled her arm up so she could inspect the jacket she was wearing, which was the same dark blue hue as the thread. Her breaths rattled in her chest as she began to sob. Boone wore a lot of the same colour, she was sure she could justify it…she stared at the jacket, which wasn't frayed at all, but said no more.

She allowed Sayid to take her under his arm and guide her away towards the beach, sparing a glance towards the clearing she had found herself in, praying for one last glimpse of her brother, but there was none. She knew nobody would believe her. Nobody had the faith to believe her.

_Locke would._ A snide voice interrupted her scattered thoughts and Shannon gritted her teeth. She rejected the thought instantly. She wasn't going to turn to that man for anything, even if it did allow her to avoid being labelled as the poor girl who lost her brother and then her mind.

She stared at the thread of material all the way back to the sandy shores, where it seemed people were finally awakening. She smiled, as unfounded relief flooded through her. Abruptly she turned and kissed Sayid before he could say anything, and he responded hesitantly.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear, before returning to their kiss.

Out of the corner of her gaze, she thought could see a dark haired young man watch with an intense cerulean stare, but she didn't look to see. She smiled into the kiss, one hand on Sayid's shoulder, and the other firmly gripping a strand of navy blue thread.

* * *

I'm not too sure where this came from, but I'm a sucker for angst after the death of a character, but not too keen on ghosty stories, so I left this open to you. You can decide for yourself whether Boone is a ghost or a figment of Shannon's imagination, or something else entirely :)


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